When the Night Has Come
by Banshi13
Summary: Episode Tag to "Unending" - It's been over three years since SG-1 has been trapped in the time dilation field. Lt. Col. Cam Mitchell is having yet another restless night, and he's not the only one. (Undertones of Sam/Jack through out this piece, but a surprising (perhaps), interesting (possibly) hypothesis on how Cam may try to deal). One shot.


Two years, five months, and sixteen days.

That was how long he'd been stuck in this time dilation field. Two years, five months, and sixteen days of staring out into the unmoving blackness of space with nothing but emptiness to greet him, save the ever-looming energy beam that hovered continually outside. From his vantage point in the hallway, Cam stared at the halted deadly laser now, willing his glare to be so fearsome that it caused the blast to return from whence it came, but his previous staring contests hadn't been successful in doing that, so there was no reason to think that this one would be any different.

Cam decided that that last shot from the Ori Ship hung around not because of the field which Sam had erected as a last ditch effort to save them all from an impending combustible death, but because it wanted to mock him. Him specifically, no one else. Oh, Mitchell knew that the rest of the team and General Landry were no happier about their situation than he was, but Cam was taking being cooped up like a sardine with far less grace than his compatriots.

General Landry had started some kind of plant garden in one of the labs. What had started out as a simple potted plant sitting on a desk had become a full blown rain forest, filled with what Cameron believed to be every plant imaginable on Earth, and possibly one of each from all the planets they'd visited. At first, the Lt. Colonel hadn't batted an eye, but when he came to the lab one day to ask Landy a question and, but for Hank popping out from underneath a rather heavy thicket of leaves, Cam would have never seen him.

Then there was Jackson and Vala. Cam had to admit he was as shocked as anyone when 'it' had finally happened for them. He'd never forget rounding the corner while he was jogging and seeing a very satisfied Vala Mal Doran exiting the archeologists quarters, a smug, yet happy and loving smile on her face as she waved a few promising fingers over her shoulder. He hadn't asked any questions because the answers to what was going on came over the following weeks. He saw the change in Daniel and Vala. The sarcasm and snark wasn't as quick to appear from Daniel and Vala, likewise, seemed lighter and (dare Cam say it) emotionally honest. They were both happy. Well. As happy as they could be trapped on a ship that wasn't going anywhere, isolated from everything and everyone else they'd ever known.

Teal'C had been Cam's most frequent companion. The two had daily sparring sessions – sometimes twice a day if Mitchell was feeling particularly twitchy, and his Jaffa friend had remained predictably calm and stoic. Between Landry and Teal'C, the latter was the one Cam talked to the most, confided in, and once or twice took his frustrations out on. His friend handled it all with persistent understanding though, and Cam was grateful for that.

Then there was Sam. He saw her mostly when it was time to eat, and occasionally when he passed her in the halls or when she popped out of her lab to take a rare break. She'd recently taken up learning to play the cello and during his middle of the night jogs would sometimes pause outside her lab suite to rest or do stretches and listen to her practice before continuing on. If there was one similarity in how he and Sam chose to handle their entrapment, it was that sleep did not come easy for either of them. Daniel and Vala had each other to lean on, Landry was making the best of a bad situation with his plants, Teal'C would Kel'noreem to center himself, but Cam and Sam were the ones least able to find any kind of peace. They worked or occupied themselves until their bodies demanded sleep and/or food, and then once the body had achieved one or both, the two soldiers would be back at whatever it was that kept them busy – Sam obsessing over notes and equations and research, trying to find a way to simultaneously deactivate the dilation field and avoid being blown out of space, and Cam exercising, sparring, playing chess when he could with Landry, sitting in the 302 bay…

Anything to make him forget that he was stuck on this big heap of metal.

His mind wandered back to Daniel and Vala. Clearly, being together had helped them deal with this situation; they had each other to lean on when they despaired or when the confines of the ship became too much. Cam found himself envious of that, just the tiniest bit. Briefly, he thought about Carolyn Lam. For him, it had been two and a half years. For her and everyone else outside of the time dilation field, it only been milliseconds – if that. He supposed on one hand, that was good, since everyone outside the field wouldn't have time to wonder what had happened to SG-1 or the SGC's commander. But for him, it was agonizing, and not just because he felt as if he were slowly going mad.

He'd just gotten up the nerve to ask Carolyn out on a date. He'd even asked her father just to be sure it was alright, which he would have done anyway, even if she hadn't been General Landry's daughter. He supposed it was irony that it had been three years since he'd made that decision, and he still hadn't figured out what their first date would be like. He supposed he could just let her make the decision, but Cameron was old school – if he was doing the asking, he'd be doing the planning.

He frowned lightly, his ears twitching as he picked up on a kind of sad, low melody wafting from down the hall. Ah, yes. He'd forgotten he was so close to Sam's lab. It sounded as though she'd decided to take a break from physics and switch to music, and Cam shifted his stance just slightly, his eyes lowering as he listened. He didn't know if Sam knew it, but her emotions played through the chords she created with the string instrument. It was haunting, melancholy, the perfect theme to their imperfect situation, yet it was a tune that Cam had heard before. He figured Sam was now composing her own works, and he had to grin a little at that. The woman was a genius in everything she put her mind to.

As bad as he had it on the ship, he couldn't imagine what she'd been going through. Mitchell may have only been a part of SG-1 for a few years, but there was one thing that he'd picked up on very quickly, and that was Sam's 'not-relationship relationship' with a certain head of Homeworld Security. He didn't know the full story – he hadn't been around the team nearly long enough to know everything – but from what little bit he'd been entrusted with, Cam was well aware that Sam and General O'Neill had waited a very long time for their chance. They'd fought through the Goa'uld, Replicators, the Lucian Alliance, the Ori, and their own military regulations to finally have an opportunity to be together.

And now Sam was on this ship. Three years and counting without being able to send so much as an e-mail to the man she'd waited nearly a decade to be with. She hadn't stopped searching for a way out, but Cam wasn't stupid: they were all beginning to lose hope. He knew he was. He was frustrated and angry, and he was becoming more so, and even he had to admit to himself that he was lonely. Unlike Daniel and Vala, he had no one to share his misery with, not intimately as they did at least.

Whatever movement Sam was playing became just a bit louder and Cam stole a glance down the hallway. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about asking Sam if she wanted or cared to spend some time with him in an intimate way. He wasn't sure what they'd do, and it wasn't even a sexual connection that he was looking for, though he probably wouldn't turn it down if the opportunity presented itself – he was only human after all and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't had his urges, especially with Daniel and Vala fornicating like bunnies. He wanted an escape. The exercising, the fighting with Teal'C, playing games with Landry, sitting in the 302's pretending to fly out of the landing bay God knew how many times just wasn't cutting it anymore. If he had to be miserable, if he had to be on trapped on this ship, tough guy military persona be damned, he'd rather share that feeling of helplessness with someone else who was probably feeling the exact same way he was rather than deal with it alone.

But Sam was taken, and Cam knew that. The last thing he wanted to do was put her in an awkward position or make her feel uncomfortable in any way, and he was certainly not going to ask her to just forget about the man she'd gone through hell to be with, quiet and low key as he knew their 'not' relationship was.

He noticed after a few moments that the music had ceased. Pushing himself off the window he'd been leaning against, he stuck his hands in his pockets and padded down the hall way, pausing for only a few moments before sliding his hand over the sensor and opening the door.

The only time he'd ever witnessed Samantha Carter crying was back on the planet where they had been testing shielding technology, and she'd taken an Ori staff blast right to her stomach. She wasn't sobbing loudly, and she wasn't shriveled in a ball on the floor, but as sure as the sun rose in the morning, he was watching his friend shed quiet, dignified tears and it hadn't seemed to register to her that she was being observed. Mitchell walked quietly towards her and was wondering when she would react to his presence, but he managed to stop within inches of her shaking shoulders without so much as a peep of acknowledgement from her.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand and placed it gently on her back. The fact that she didn't flinch in the slightest told him that she'd known he was there, probably the second he'd opened the door – she simply wasn't bothered by it.

Cam wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, him standing supportively next to her while she let out the demons which had gathered in her for three years counting and more. Eventually, he realized that at some point, he'd wrapped both his arms around her, and Sam was holding one of his arms with her hand while leaning her head against the crook of his shoulder. She was slowly but surely beginning to calm, and soon the only sound in the room was the gentle hum of the ships power systems in the background.

"Feel better?" Cam asked, tilting his head just slightly. His nose wrinkled as her hair brushed against it.

"Yea, thanks," Sam nodded, letting out one final and deep sigh before pulling back just enough to look at him. He waved off her gratitude though, offering a "no problem" in his deep southern drawl. "Surprised it took this long," he added as she stepped back to look at her. She only offered one of her trade mark quick smiles before wiping her cheeks one last time and looking around. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Nah," Cam shook his head, his lips tying themselves into a grimace. "Sleep doesn't come that easily anymore. I bet you if Carolyn were here she'd have diagnosed me with Non-24 Disorder by now." He was glad to see at least some semblance of a smile from her. "So, what about you?" He continued. "The food replicator run out of blue jello?"

His easy quip earned him a quiet bit of laughter. He watched as Sam squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. "I just – I'm not seeing something," she gestured towards her lab table, her laptop sitting atop it. "There's something I'm not seeing, something I'm not thinking of. I know it's right in front of me, but it's like it's right on the tip of my tongue; I can't find it. Three years of researching and trial and error and I can't find how to fix this." Her bottom lip slid between her teeth and worried it for a few moments. "I miss him," she finally murmured quietly. There was no need for her to elaborate any further. The two stood in comfortable silence once the admission had been made, nothing but the barely there hum of the life support systems to be heard.

Eventually, Cam stepped forward and took the weight of the cello into his arms. "C'mon," he placed the instrument carefully against the table before turning back towards her and holding out a hand for her to take as she stood up. "I'll walk you back to your room."

"I'm not really tired," she shook her head at him. He tilted his head.

"Commissary then. Blue jello."

He was rewarded with the tiniest of grins and affirmative nod as Mitchell allowed Sam to walk in front of him as he brought up the rear. "What is it with you and blue jello, anyway?" He saw her shrug as she answered. "I suppose it's my own answer to the universe for all of life's problems."

"I thought that was 42?"

"That's what McKay would say, but we try not to listen to him too much."


End file.
